“Nowadays, whenever I listen to music on YouTube, advertisements by local self-proclaimed stock-market gurus frequently interrupt my listening pleasure. They’re in English—or horrible Manglish to be precise—Mandarin and also in Cantonese. Pooey!” Mummy Lulu raises a middle finger. “Tiew nia mah chow hai! If your strategy is fool-proof, go make millions yourself! Why you want to teach others your fantastic trading secret?” She takes a gulp of her tequila, the veins in her neck squirming like earthworms. “I’m going to subscribe to YouTube premium, which has no ads.”
/end
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